A Twinge of Red
by planetofmars
Summary: "You're ruining this fantasy," Tony deadpans.  Steve has a sunburn. Tony decides to help, but not really.


**Title:** A Twinge of Red  
><strong>Author:<strong> Planetofmars/Keelover  
><strong>Summary:<strong> "You're ruining this fantasy," Tony deadpans. (Steve has a sunburn. Tony decides to help, but not really.)  
><strong>Universe:<strong> 616  
><strong>Rating:<strong> NC-17  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Ice cubes?

**A Twinge of Red**

"Don't touch it," Steve warns, flinching as he moves his arms to stop Tony from approaching.

"Captain America can get a sunburn, who would have thought? You can remember to bring your shield wherever you go, but you can't remember to put sunblock on?" Tony questions, amusement in every word as he takes in Steve's red face and arms, and he isn't sure how he got that shirt on without his skin peeling completely off.

"Tony."

"That white shirt really brings out the red of your nose."

"If you're just going to make fun of me, you can leave," Steve says, and he just looks pitiful. Captain America looks pitiful, and over a sunburn.

"Okay, okay, let me put on the aloe vera, and I'll leave you alone."

"Promise?"

"Promise," he was lying, but Steve didn't need to know that.

Steve glares at him before his eyes soften, and he says, "I might need help getting this shirt off."

"I don't know how you got it on," Tony comments, and he's about to throw in a crude joke about baboon asses, but thinks better of it.

"Slowly," Steve admits, and if he wasn't already red, Tony thinks he might be now.

"I can do a lot of things slowly, Steve, like that thing I did yesterday, you know, with my tongue."

"_Tony_."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I won't make this sexual." Another lie. Tony felt as though he should feel bad about all the little white lies he tells so easily, but takes one look at Steve's large frame on the bed, and shrugs. He could feel bad later, after they had sex.

Tony moves closer to Steve, gripping the cotton material of his shirt before lifting it as gently as he can. Steve hisses as he raises his arms, and Tony can only continue to do his best not to make matters worse. Tony bites his lip, the urge to laugh rising quickly as he can now see the extent of damage done. Steve would heal quickly, quicker than most people, but for now, Tony found a good, _plausible_ reason to play nurse. Tony laughs, if he were actually a nurse he would probably have been fired by now for some form of sexual harassment.

Steve's entire chest was a bright red, hell his entire body was red, save the areas underneath his arms that the sun couldn't touch. Tony shook his head, and Steve merely glared, again. Tony wondered if it hurt his eyes to do so before saying, "Okay, shirt's off, now off with your pants." He does his best to keep his voice neutral, but figures Steve is already on to him.

"My legs aren't that bad, Tony, I don't wear _those_ type of bathing suits. Well, not anymore," Steve says, and he's talking about the time Clint saw him in a pair of barely there swim bottoms, dropped to his knees laughing till he couldn't breathe, stomach hurting as Wanda glared at him disapprovingly.

"And that's a real shame, Steve, but off with them," Tony demands, situating himself on the plush bed. He mentally pats himself on the back for this hotel choice, really, the Stark name had come through for this last minute idea.

Steve ignores his outlandishness, like he often does, and mentions that it is his back and the area along his shoulders that hurt the most. Tony figures that this is what happens when you fall asleep outside in cloudless, ninety-eight degree weather. Tony sighs, getting Steve out of his pants was going to take a lot more effort than he had first anticipated.

The aloe is cool as he pours a generous amount of the sticky, gel-like substance into his hands. Steve hisses as the palms of his hands come into contact with the top of his shoulders, working their way down in slow circles. Steve is tense, and Tony recommends that he relax a little, and that truly wasn't sexual on his part, at first. Steve's skin is hot to the touch, making Tony's fingers tingle. Tony could see Steve's skin start to repair itself, small pinpricks at a time, not noticeable to anyone who wasn't obsessed with detail.

Steve's body was rather remarkable, and Tony cannot help but to wonder what he was like before the Super Soldier Serum had completely changed his physical appearance. Tony doubts anything other than his body had been altered, and for some reason, that makes him grin damn near obnoxiously at the back of Steve's head. Steve was the perfect super hero, really, who else could take up the role of America's finest with the exception of maybe Barnes?

Steve coughs, and Tony realizes that his hands have stopped moving, resting upon the mid of Steve's back, leaving a pale imprint along the skin he had touched. Tony mumbles something about imagining Dr. Strange naked, and caries on. "Strange, huh? Something I should know about, Tony?" Steve inquires, voice filled with humor, which Tony can't decided is better or worse then his previous exasperation.

"Please, you know I hate magic, Steve. Actually, I wouldn't put it pass him if he implanted those images himself," Tony says, and he wasn't imagining Strange naked before, but he was now, and it was just terrible.

"You're not everyone's cup of tea either, Tony," Steve grins, and Tony digs his thumb in a bit too deep into the skin of his right shoulder, apologizing halfheartedly.

"You like me," Tony argues, working his way lower, enjoying the way Steve's body relaxes under his touch.

"Sometimes," Steve replies, and though Tony can't see him, he knows there is a award winning smile to that sunburned face of his.

"Here I am, taking care of you, selflessly, might I add, and you only like me sometimes?"

"Sometimes," Steve says, again.

Tony frowns, but his hands never stop moving. They don't always get along, that was a well known fact, and they're always on opposite sides of nearly every argument, but they're drawn to each other. No matter how bad things got, when the worse had happened, Tony still thought of Steve, still wanted him by his side. Tony shakes his head, this was suppose to be a good time, not a time to reflect on how much he had messed up over the years.

Steve chuckles, nearly startling him. "Do you like me all of the time, Tony?" he questions, and Tony isn't sure where this is going.

"No," he offers honestly.

Steve turns around, and though it must be painful, he's smiling. "See, you don't like me all of the times, no one does, but you love me." Tony shakes his head, laughing. Captain America might not be a sap, a real hard-ass maybe, but Steve was, at heart, and why he wasted it all on him, Tony would never understand.

"I think the sun's gone to your head," he says, and it's difficult not to want to revive that baboon joke he has still mulling around in his head when Steve leans forward, lips pressing rather softly against his own.

And it's true: Tony might not have always liked Steve, liked or agreed with that he was doing, but he had always loved him, as scary as that word might still be for him. That train of thought vanishes, however, as Steve kisses him again, and Tony knows an opportunity when he sees one. Usually, Tony is the one well versed in detracting from a topic, but Steve is obviously done talking for the moment, and what was he to do?

"Um, how exactly are we suppose to do this? I mean, I can't touch you without you trying to strangle me," Tony says, and he brings up a good, _sensible_ point. And, what? There was definitely something wrong with him, he deduced, and concluded he should have his head examined upon their return.

"The sting isn't so bad anymore," Steve comments, and Tony continues to simply stare at him.

"You're glowing red, though," he comments, teasing Steve.

"And you can't have sex with me because I'm red?"

"But what if I like it, Steve? I'll move on to god knows what...lobsters, baboon asses, or worse, the Red Hulk. These are things you need to consider seriously," Tony contends, and he just knew the baboon remark was going to slip its way through.

"Tony."

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

Steve smiles, and it is affectionate, well meaning, and most of all, sincere. Steve was the sort of person who could only be satisfied sexually if there was some sort of emotional connection, and while Tony had thought it to be complete and utter horseshit at the time, his opinion on that matter had somewhat changed in that he admitted it made a difference. A lot of things about Steve made a difference.

"Are you sure? I mean, I'm not gonna put my hands on you and your skin come off in clumps, right?"

Steve gets up with a huff, walking pass Tony and towards the bathroom before returning with a bucket filled with ice. Steve shoves the medium size bucket into Tony's hands before saying, "You can make it better." Tony smirks, nearly leers at the creativity this now presents him, and wonders idly if Steve had somehow plotted all of this.

"I can do that," he comments, almost too quickly.

Steve grins down at him. "Can you?"

Tony fakes a frown. "I am a nurse, aren't I?"

"No, you're not," Steve responds, laughing.

"You're ruining this fantasy," Tony deadpans.

With that smirk back on his face, he grabs Steve by his hips, pulling him forward. Steve follows suit, if but a bit bashfully, and it makes Tony want him all the more. Steve can stand, he decides, unlacing the ties to his swim trunks, pushing them down gently, and is surprised to see the golden tan he is accustomed to. Steve wasn't lying about that,he thinks idly, acknowledging the fact that the other man is already half aroused. Tony tells him to stand still, taking a single ice cube before popping it into his mouth, as is expected, it is cold, melting quickly against the heat of his tongue.

Steve lets out a chocked sort of noise when Tony leans forward, mouth pressing sloppily against the skin covering his left hip. The sensation of cold against hot is new for Steve, and he quickly decides he likes it, and he likes it even more as Tony continues on his own path, heading lower. Tony drags his teeth along the skin of Steve's inner thigh, and this would be so much easier if he could lie down on the bed, but Tony decides this will do. Tony pulls away briefly, much to Steve's frustration, to acquire another piece of ice, allowing it to slip in between his lips and letting it melt. He decides that it is almost as much fun to make Steve wait, then it is to go down on him.

Which, if he were to be honest, is a lot of fun.

"You made me wait, I'm just returning the favor," Tony says with a wink, and Steve lets out a noise of protest. But, for the life of him, Tony cannot find it within himself to make bank on that promise, hands tracing their way up the back of Steve's thighs to firmly grasp his cheeks, spreading them apart before pushing them together.

"_To-ny_," Steve says, and Tony prefers his name pronounced like that, all breathless and flustered. Steve's fully hard now, face twisted in pain and pleasure as Tony leans forward, a testing flick of his tongue over the tip of Steve's slit. He still has a firm grip on Steve's ass, and he's not going anywhere now that Tony has him exactly where he wants him.

The quick work of his hand has another ice cube in his mouth in no time, and the coldness of his fingers sends a shiver down Steve's spine. When Steve's eyes close shut, Tony takes the opportunity to place the head of his cock into his mouth, creating a slight suction before fluttering his tongue up and down the tip. Steve's thighs tense underneath his hands, and it gives Tony a smug sort of satisfaction knowing that only he could do this to him. Tony works to take him deeper, humming along the way as his fingers create intricate patterns only he knows the meaning to along Steve's sides. Steve's having a difficult time keeping still, and the look of concentration on his face makes Tony pick up the pace.

It's almost a little embarrassing what this is doing to him, hand down his pants as he swirls his tongue just the way Steve likes it. The fact that he hasn't come like this since his late teens, early twenties, says something wonderful about the man he has the pleasure of bedding. Steve's just so..._Steve-like_, and groaning his name, and Tony can't help but to moan around him, grip tightening a bit as he keeps to rhythm. Steve starts to lose control again, warning him that it's about to happen, and by _it_, Tony knows he means come, and that is something Tony doesn't mind at the moment because he, himself, is just about there; and suddenly Steve's fingers are wrapped dangerously tight in his hair until he's aware of himself, and simply lets go of all control, and Tony's more than willing to swallow. Tony's mind is barely able to register the fact that his hand is covered in his own release, body sated as he gleams triumphantly and contently up at Steve who still looks to be out of breath and out of mind.

"You look...more red, if that's even possible," Tony says, sprawling out on the bed, cleaned off and preferably naked. Steve is without clothes as well, but not of his own accord, it just didn't seem practical to put himself through the hassle if they were just going to have sex again sometime soon.

"This is why people don't like you, Tony," Steve replies, a boyish grin to his features as he attempts not to move around too much. Tony can't really touch him above the waist, so he keeps it low along Steve's outer thigh as he places a slow, deep kiss to Steve's mouth. Steve's hand, a large hand that could easily crush him any time it willed, cups the back of his head gently, like something priceless, as he returns the kiss, lips oddly smooth from the sun.

Tony pulls away, a smirk to his face."No, just why they love me."


End file.
